Necron: The Legend Of Rezar DeathWind

For the better part of an hour after he had returned to his cavern or rather his shabby cave in the cavern, Rezar has been trying to figure out what his next move would be. Of course it was not as if he could do anything else, he had barely been able to crawl away from the new mining car that he had been given.

Every square inch of his body ached, but he had actually been able to get back in record time considering how large and loaded the car had been. It had only taken him an hour and half, but these were probably the most physically grueling hour and half of his life, he had even hoped he would have been able to reach a milestone and get a stat reward, but there was absolutely nothing.

So now all he could do was lie down and figure out what to do next. First of all he had to make sure the entrance to his cave was properly fortified; there was a significant amount of wood planks and beams amongst what he brought with him, so he might be able to make a door of some sort. As for the stone walls, a couple more digs and he would have enough to raise them high enough to reach the two meter height he was hoping for, though he honestly wished he had something like cement to make them stick.

But after that he would want to expand the cave, apart from making the current three meter wide and long rectangular cave a little bit bigger, he was going to dig out a new room. With the help of a few dozen moles, and he should be able to properly work that out. He wanted a wider space, plus he was actually planning to rear those earthworms, they were massive, slimy and utter revolting. But he couldn't deny the fact that they were the only life saving option he had available in the cave as of this moment.

And interspaced between all those goals would be a few mining projects and a few monster hunting ones. He might have good instincts and a very distinct lack of fear, but he couldn't deny the fact that he really lacked the knowledge, skill and experience to be a proper fighter.

And much as he didn't want to use a sword in a fight, or reasons he just couldn't bring himself to understand, it was the only other option available to him. His necromantic abilities would grow naturally as long as he kept using them, so he could place a little bit of focus on swinging a metal stick like an idiot.

He heaved a bit as he looked up at the hole in the ceiling of his cave, his night vision made him see a little better, but enough that he knew exactly what was beyond the six meter distance. The cave was shaped like some misshapen hour glass, with the tiny past being the bottom where he was, and much larger one being above him. He couldn't help the feeling that there was something hidden at the top, like it was a whole other world over there, but regardless, that was not a place he can reach yet, and so he just closed his eyes, giving himself so much deserved rest.

[[[[[[[||]]]]]]]]

Maurice was living his third reincarnation, there was nothing to be said about his first two as he hadn't achieved much, but that was understandable, he has been a prisoner for all of his three virtual lives. On earth he was something likened to a rapist, but he was different, he liked to think that his crimes were an art form, he was not like other men who would accost females at the corner of deserted alleys or break into their houses.

For one thing he always tried to spare his victims any sort of mental anguish, so instead he went for the ones that wouldn't notice the carnal pleasures he was delivering to their bodies. He couldn't help it that some women in this world don't understand the meaning to let loose and enjoy the feeling flesh against flesh, a dance of carnal eloquence that has been the propagation of the human race from the moment they came into existence...it was beautiful.

His victims were mostly uploads, or rather the mortal bodies they left behind when they decided earth had nothing more to offer them, once in a while he would switch up his appetite by rocking the bodies of deep divers, those that still beard the title of players and ran around Elysium like it was some sort of game. Their bodies were always the sweetest though, sometimes he could feel their muscles react, feel them clench him tight from whatever it was they were experiencing with Elysium, and that was his own personal heaven...at least until he got caught.

Maurice staggered a bit as he crawled through the cold tunnels, abandoned mining equipment could be seen and the lamps here were already flickering and almost dead. He shouldn't be here, after all it was in this very direction that bad omen carried out his mining operations, but Maurice wasn't scared of him. He thought it was incredibly stupid that a world in an advanced technological age and in a marvel of technology like Elysium that it could almost be considered magic; would be so strung up on the superstitions of uploads and players who had the death class, he didn't believe in all those bullshit.

And that was why he made a point by bumping into the fool earlier in the day; he was just a kid who knew nothing. Though if he was a woman, Maurice would not have minded teaching him a little lesson in respect, but alas he was just a punk ass kid. He came to an abrupt stop with a rather annoyed frown on his face; his bottle was empty.

Maurice shook it a bit before angrily smashing the bottle to the ground, it was just as nice that he was heading to his secret stash, he had every intention of getting terribly drunk today, it's the only thing that would keep from heading into cursed arms of lady Sala and her brothel of STD propagating wenches. Of all the diseases Elysium could simulate and make real, it had to be gonorrhea, now he had to abstain from carnal pleasures for three whole days for it to wear off. And so his pleasures this night would be at the embrace of cold bottle of Stygian moonshine.

He had to hide it so deep in the western tunnels, because slaves weren't allowed to drink, though you could definitely go around that rule, by drinking away from superiors. Also for some reason the western tunnel was always really cold, so his brews were always chilled when he came for them, and drinking them in the silence away from everyone else has turned into a favorite pass time of his, which was why he...

*Scrape!*

Maurice paused, he was drunk, but not so drunk he would not be able to recognize the sound of someone slipping on rocks. He was either being followed or the sound was coming from deeper within the western mines, but honestly he couldn't tell which direction at all. He bent down and picked up the remains of his bottle, holding the neck and pointing the jagged edge of it towards both direction, and in the end he ended up turning so many times that in his light drunken haze he had no idea which path was in or out.

He didn't say anything, he was a rather big man, and he was pretty sure he could take on anything, even if it was that scrawny white haired blue eyed freak! But just as he strengthened his conviction, a chilling and cold wind blew past him, causing him to shiver as he looked up to see a sight that chilled him to the bones. Icy blue eyes floating in the dark, it w as if the form that those eyes belonged to were fully and completely embraced by the darkness and all he could see were those icy blue that looked all too much like death.

In a heartbeat those eyes were before him, he opened his mouth to let out a cry of terror, but all that he could do was gurgle up blood as his lungs were filled with the life giving liquid.

A wet squelch told him that his ripped out throat had been thrown on the ground like a discarded piece of flesh. He looked up one last time and he could see was blue, and then white, followed by teeth and claws, and pain, so much pain. And then finally......darkness, and death.